


Pulls You In, Like Gravity

by theirhappystory



Series: Creatures of the Night [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, prostitute/client au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theirhappystory/pseuds/theirhappystory
Summary: Felicity realizes her growing attachment to Oliver is something she cannot afford.





	Pulls You In, Like Gravity

****The pitter patter of rain soothes Felicity’s nerves as she makes her way down the drenched sidewalk. It hits the nylon hood of her jet black raincoat in a steady, but not unbearable rhythm. This has always been her favorite kind of weather. The dreary presence makes people less alert, more inclined to keep to themselves. It makes it easier for her to blend in and go by unnoticed.

The laptop she had so brutally massacred the other day is stowed away in the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. Sadly, unlike the man it belonged to, this little guy will not be undergoing a miraculous resurrection from the dead. It put up a good fight though. Felicity was able to start it up a handful of times only for the piece of technology to quit on her a few minutes later until taking its final breath, sparking twice and sending Java into a hissy fit only a cat could throw.

Laughing to herself at the memory, Felicity rounds the corner of the coffee shop. She glances through the window and spots Oliver sitting at the high oak bar that lines it. He smiles at her, giving this dorky little wave that only causes her smile to brighten. As she enters the bistro and approaches him, Felicity can’t help but marvel at how different this Oliver is from the one she’s seen on the news. It must be exhausting to play the kind of games he does, the elaborate dress up he participates in. She knows the feeling all too well.

Felicity tugs at the strap of her bag as she comes to stand in front of Oliver.

“Thanks, again, for agreeing to meet me here. My place isn’t really in the best neighborhood and to be frank your mansion of a house intimidates me.”

“Felicity, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

She smiles at him, thankful for the lack of judgement that so many others have not afforded her. Reaching into her bag, Felicity pulls out the deceased laptop along with a flash drive containing all the information she could recover from the hard drive, which was all of it.

“I managed to save all the data stored on that thing, but the laptop itself is toast.”

Felicity sets the laptop down on the bar in front of Oliver, noticing then that there are two cups of coffee sitting there instead of one. She gives him a questioning look, to which he responds by sliding one of them in her direction.

“To replace the one you lost, and to thank you for saving what you could.”

“Oh! You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

Oliver nudges the cup into her hands and smiles kindly at her, the sudden warming of her cheeks letting Felicity know that she’s blushing as she accepts the coffee from him.

“Well, thank you.”

A lull in the conversation gives her time to survey their surroundings as she takes a sip of the hot drink, pleasantly surprised to find that it’s her usual dark roast. Then she notices the absence of a certain tall, dark, and muscular bodyguard.

“Lose your shadow, Peter Pan?”

“Hmmm? Oh, Mr.Diggle. I may have given him the slip.”

Oliver grins at her sheepishly as Felicity raises an eyebrow at him.

“Isn’t the whole point of his employment to ensure your safety at all times? Kinda hard to do that when he’s not with you.”

He waves his hand dismissively at that and takes a sip of his coffee before responding.

“I can take care of myself.”

Right. There’s still that elephant in the room. It’s probably something they should talk about, although a very public coffee shop isn’t the ideal place to discuss vigilante justice.

“Really? Because that’s not the impression I had the other night when you were bleeding out.”

“I was not bleeding out. It was a minor laceration and I had it covered.”

“Tell that to my dress.”

It’s perhaps a little weird that they’re discussing this so casually, especially when they’re not _really_ talking about it. All of their words are beating around the bush, acknowledging that Felicity knows without acknowledging _what_ she knows. Quite honestly, she’s a little bit surprised he hasn’t tracked her down in the middle of the night to intimidate her into not running to the authorities. Not that she would, for multiple reasons. Felicity stopped trusting law enforcement a long time ago.

Glancing at her wristwatch, she takes note of the time. She has an appointment with a client at a new club opening in two hours and needs to get back home if she has any hope of being there on time.

“Some place to be?”

“Yeah, sorry, I need to go get ready for work.”

The look on Oliver’s face when she tells him that is almost one of disappointment. Felicity’s heart clenches at the thought that maybe he wants her to stay, to be with him for a little while longer. It makes her feel wanted in a way that she hasn’t for awhile now. She pushes the feeling aside, deep down to a place where she can ignore it. Personal connections are a luxury she cannot afford.

“Well, thank you, for saving what you could from my laptop.”

“It’s the least I could do. And thank _you_ for the coffee. I’ll… see you around, Oliver.”

Felicity winces internally at the empty promise. She isn't going to see him around. At least she doesn't expect to. Even though a part of her really, really wants to.

Scooping her coffee cup from the table, Felicity readjusts her bag on her shoulder and smiles politely at Oliver before turning to leave. There's a shuffling sound behind her just as he calls out.

"Felicity, wait."

She pauses, glancing over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He's standing now with his hands shoved in the deep pockets of his jeans, attempting nonchalance. His gaze however... his gaze is anything but casual. It's intense, open in a way that causes a hitch in her breathing.

"I would really like to see you again."

Oh frack.

Somehow managing to break away from the hypnotic hold his eyes have on her, Felicity focuses intently on the coffee cup in her hand. Her teeth tug at her bottom lip in apprehension as she thinks of the best way to respond. She decides that getting straight to the point is best, the old ‘ripping off a bandaid’ method.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Mr. Queen."

The shift in Oliver’s demeanour is instantaneous. The spark in his eyes fades, his body becoming tense as he shakes his head as if admonishing himself. When he meets her gaze again, he’s wearing that same smile he had on when she first spotted him at the club. It’s wide and bares his teeth, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

How is it possible for someone to be so expressive yet so controlled like he is?

“Right, you’re right.”

“I promise I won’t talk to anyone about the other night, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s not like she has anyone to tell anyway.

“Thank you.”

Again his expression changes, morphing into a genuine expression of gratitude. Felicity simply replies with a smile and a nod before forcing herself to turn away and exit the cafe, ignoring the way her chest grows heavier with each step.

* * *

Felicity can hear the pounding of the bass from outside the club as she makes her way down the busy sidewalk, dressed in a skin tight dress and a cropped black wig. A line of party goers in their twenties and thirties, and a few questionably young looking individuals, stretches the expanse of the brick building. Some of them seem angered that they have to wait in line, while others appear to be too intoxicated to care. Felicity herself skips the line entirely, heading straight for the bouncer and ignoring the dirty looks she receives from the unfortunate souls waiting to get in to Starling's newest and hottest social scene. Approaching the incredibly muscular man, she gives him a coy smile and a name.

"Meghan Raymond. I should be on the list, Mr. Fuller is expecting me."

The bouncer flips to the end of the list, a smirk creeping onto his face when he finds her name.

"Yes, he certainly is. Enjoy your night at _Poison_ , Meghan."

She returns the man's lecherous grin with a sickly sweet one of her own, and thanks him as he moves the velvet rope aside to let her in. This may be the kind of reaction she's used to getting, but it doesn't mean she likes it.

Swirling smoke and the too loud music overpower Felicity's senses as she enters the club. Bodies are already writhing against each other on the dance floor, sweat mingling with the staleness of alcohol in the air. It takes Felicity aback for a second as her body accustoms itself to the onslaught of stimuli.

Glancing around, she searches for the meeting place Max Fuller requested, a section in the back closed off with deep blue curtains. She finds it easily, then checks her phone for the time. Twenty minutes until her appointment, enough time to grab a drink and familiarize herself with her surroundings. Sauntering toward the bar, Felicity quickly grabs the attention of the female bartender and orders herself a vodka soda. The redhead on the other side is quick to serve her, shaking her head when Felicity offers her enough money to cover the drink plus tip.

“It’s on the house, cutie.”

The woman winks at her, causing Felicity to blush. Nevertheless she accepts the drink and tips her head in thanks before taking a sip. It’s mixed to perfection, the vodka and carbonation coming together in a perfect amalgamation that has her shivering a little upon first sip. Note to self, do not order another one.

Turning on the revolving barstool, Felicity leans back against the bar as she scans the crowd. There’s nothing out of the ordinary with this crowd, but then again it’s a fairly high end club so she wouldn’t expect there to be. Then her eye catches sight of a petite brunette off to the side speaking with an older man covered in tattoos and more piercings than Felicity herself has ever had, which is saying something because there was a rebellious phase with hair dye, _a lot_ of MUDs, and piercings in places she would rather forget. The girl looks far too young to have made it past the bouncer and completely wasted if the way she’s swaying on her feet and using the guy she’s talking to as a counterbalance are anything to go by. She pulls out a wad of cash, practically shoving it into the guy’s hand, and then holds her palm out expectantly. Once Many Tattoos counts the bills, he reaches into the pocket of his sweatshirt and produces a small baggie. Even from across the room, it's not hard to guess what the contents are. 

Felicity sighs, her heart falling heavy for this unknown girl. She wants to do something, to intervene, but she knows it’s not her place to do so. It’s not that she’s judging the brunette for her choices, Felicity knows absolutely nothing about this girl or her life. She’s just seen the way people lose themselves to drugs and other substances, watched as they let their lives slip away chasing a temporary high, and it’s not something she would ever wish for anyone.

“Why so sad, darling?”

Ugh.

Felicity slides her gaze away from the exchange in the corner of the room to the man who has taken up residence on the barstool beside her. He’s brunette, pale, and altogether average if you ask her. The only thing that stands out is the diamond encrusted Cartier on his wrist, a sure sign that he’s compensating for something. 

“A girl as pretty as you should never look so down.”

Or a lot of somethings, his lack of tact and conversation skills among them.

“I wasn’t aware that my physical attractiveness had any influence on my ability to express human emotion.”

The guy’s cocky smirk falters for a fraction of a second before it’s back in full force. He rests an arm on the bar, dangerously close to her own, and leans in a little as he laughs.

“You’ve got a bit of spirit in you. I like that in a woman. I’m Carter.”

Is this guy for real?

Felicity stares at the hand he offers her, the one with the too expensive watch wrapped snugly around his wrist, as if it’s a snake with two heads. Glancing back up at the guy, unimpressed, she takes a long pull of her drink to finish it off before placing the glass on the bartop. Felicity knows she’s being a little bit cold, but she’s really not in the mood to deal with this guy’s attempts at flirting. She has a job to do.

“And I’m late meeting someone. Have a nice evening.”

Felicity slides off the stool and moves to brush past Cartier - _Carter_. Same thing, basically. However, she’s halted in her step by a large hand encircling her wrist. She jerks at the contact, attempting to pull her arm out of his grasp but to no avail.

“Don’t be like that, baby. I was just trying to be friendly.”

The guy squints at her then, really taking Felicity in. It’s not the typical up-down she gets when on the job. No, this guy is scrutinizing her, searching for something. Warning bells go off in her head and she tries again to free herself from his hold.

“Listen, I really am supposed to be meeting someone and -”

“I know you from somewhere.”

Felicity’s eyes widen and then dart around the room in search of an escape route. There are only two ways this man could possibly know her. One of those is from a job. The other is from her involvement with the organization. Neither of those are good.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“No… no, I recognize you from one of my buddy’s parties. It’s Meghan, right?”

Frack. This is not good.

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about. Please just let me go and -”

Someone crashes into her side, a hand coming up to grasp her forearm in a gesture of familiarity and closeness that Felicity knows she doesn’t have with the newcomer. However, the action causes Carter to release his hold on her and she’s not about to argue with that.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The girl has auburn hair pulled into a half-up style and kind hazel eyes. She holds Felicity’s gaze for a moment, trying to convey a sense of reassurance, before she continues on.

“Joanna had a little too much to drink and she’s in the bathroom right now. I think we might have to call it a night.”

This woman is giving her an out and Felicity is going to latch onto it wholeheartedly. She turns to Carter, not even a hint of remorse in her eyes as she addresses him.

“I’m sorry. I really need to go take care of my friend.”

She’s not sorry. Not at all.

“I’m sure your friend here can handle it.”

Felicity gapes at him for a moment, flabbergasted at the audacity of this man. The woman beside her, however, responds without a beat of hesitation.

“I could, but honestly you’re creeping my friend here out with your overbearing attitude. She is clearly not interested, so I think it’s time you leave.”

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack, Dr. Bowen.”

The guy’s eyes widen at the use of what must be his last name, before he attempts a mask of indifference as he begins backing away from the two women.

“Whatever. Your friend’s a fucking slut anyway.”

Before Felicity realizes what she’s doing, she crosses the space between her and the disgusting excuse of a man in front of her and lets her fist fly into his face. Blood gushes from his nose as he stumbles backwards, a hand coming up to cover his face. His eyes widen in horror when he sees the deep red coating his fingers.

“Crazy bitch!”

A small crowd has begun to form around them, and Felicity starts to worry. She’s drawing too much attention to herself. She shouldn’t have punched the guy. Why didn’t she just take the out and walk away?

Luckily, Carter seems to think better of retaliating against a girl in front of so many bystanders and instead chooses to tuck his tail and run. When it’s clear that nothing more is coming from the confrontation, the few people gathered around lose interest and quickly return to whatever they were doing before.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Felicity turns her head to find the brunette approaching her with a look of concern. She smiles reassuringly at the other girl in response.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for coming in with the save there. How’d you know the guy’s name?”

“I work for CNRI. It’s my job to know the wealthy and questionable of Starling City. I’m Laurel, by the way.”

The woman, Laurel, extends her hand to Felicity in a proper greeting. She reaches out to shake it as she replies.

“Well, that knowledge definitely came in handy. I’m -”

“ _Felicity?_ ”

Her breathing catches in her throat at the sound of his voice, a reaction that Felicity definitely ignores. She can’t, however, ignore the man himself seeing as he’s right behind her. That’s not as unfortunate for her as it should be, even though she just told him not four hours ago that it was best if they didn’t see each other again. How did he recognize her?

“Oliver. Hi.”

“You two know each other?”

Both of their attentions are drawn to Laurel standing beside them with a look of skepticism. Her eyes shift back and forth between them, and Felicity is baffled by how quickly the kindness and light present just a few moments ago fades from her eyes.

“Uhm, yeah, we met at that homecoming party Tommy threw for me.”

“Oh.”

There is a whole lot more to that one word than Felicity can decipher. She observes as the air between Oliver and Laurel grows rigid. He appears as if he wants to say something, but every time he opens his mouth words seem to fail him. And Laurel just looks confused, if not a little bit sad. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that these two have history. Even though Felicity is - a genius that is.

“Laurel, it’s not -”

“Big brother!”

A small, squealing mass of navy blue chiffon and bronze sequins unexpectedly hurls itself at Oliver, careening into his chest with the utmost enthusiasm. His arms wrap around the girl’s petite frame as she grips his shoulders for support. To Felicity’s surprise, she recognizes the girl as the one she spotted buying drugs earlier.

“Oh, I am so twisted right now. There’s one, two… two of you!”

Oliver looks utterly confused and a little bit scary as he stares down at the girl, his sister apparently. Felicity averts her gaze, looking over in Laurel’s direction. The other woman stares down at her hands before searching the room, clearly feeling almost if not just as awkward as her.

“What are you doing here, Thea?”

“Same thing as you. Having fun and - whoa! Who tilted the floor?”

The girl sways on her feet and stumbles into Oliver’s chest. He holds onto her, jaw clenched as if he’s trying to keep himself from reacting. 

“Alright, we’re done for the night. Let’s go.”

“Are Laurel and your new friend coming with?”

Felicity’s eyes nearly double in size, partly because she didn’t think the girl was anywhere near cognizant enough to take note of her presence and also due to the implication in her question. She shoots a glance in Laurel’s direction and finds the other woman has averted her steely gaze yet again. Her eyes then slide to meet Oliver’s. His stare is a violent storm of shock, anger, and sadness that somehow manages to appear apologetic. The depth of emotion knocks the wind out of her.

“No, just you and me.”

“But, Ollieeee...”

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

Oh, for the love of God! How many more people need to bare witness to what has surely become one of the most awkward moments in the history of humankind? At this point they should just livestream it and charge admission.

A bouncer, different from the one who let her in this evening, approaches the group. Behind him stands the guy who hit on her what seems like ages ago, but was really only a few minutes earlier. He has a rag clutched to his nose and a scowl on his face that erases any bit of remorse Felicity may have felt for decking him. What a fucking snitch.

“Yes?”

“This man here claims you assaulted him. Is that true?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity spots both Oliver and his sister snap their heads in her direction.

“I would hardly call punching an asshole who doesn’t know how to properly address women assault. More like a public service. You should be thanking me, really, for keeping your female patronage intact.”

“So you did hit Mr. Bowen here in the face?”

“ _Doctor_ Bowen.”

Felicity glares at the disgusting perv at his interjection, a slight thrill of satisfaction running through her at the way he shifts just a fraction closer to the bouncer.

“Yes, I did.”

Off to the side, she hears Oliver’s sister address him in a tone meant to be a whisper, but in her current state comes out at a level loud enough to be heard over the club music.

“Whoa, Ollie, your new slam piece is a badass.”

Heat floods Felicity’s cheeks at the words, simultaneously embarrassed and a little bit proud of herself.

“In that case, Miss, I’m going to need to ask you to leave. We don’t condone that kind of violent behavior in this establishment.”

She’s not altogether surprised at being escorted out. Throwing punches in a public setting is always a bit of a gamble. But now she’s going to have to cancel her appointment, which puts her out somewhere around two thousand dollars and that just really blows.

“I’ll go, but you might want to throw this dirtbag out with the rest of the trash if you care at all about the safety of your female clientele. Harassment is just a step down from sexual assault.”

The bouncer crosses his arms in front of his chest, accentuating the defined muscles of his forearms in a tactic of intimidation. All it does is cause Felicity to roll her eyes.

“Alright, I’m leaving.”

Turning to her right, Felicity offers Laurel a small smile.

“Despite the abundance of strange and awkward circumstances it was nice meeting you, Laurel. Oliver.”

With that, she pushes past the bouncer and heads toward the exit, but not without sending a hard glare in _Dr_. Bowen’s direction first. When she gets outside, Felicity steps away from the crowd of people still waiting to get in and pulls out her phone as she approaches the curb. She scrolls through her recent contacts until she finds one saved as ‘MF’ and hits ‘send’.

“ _You’ve reached Max Fuller. Leave your name and message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a great day._ ”

_Beep._

Felicity leaves a quick message apologizing profusely for having to cancel their appointment, making it clear that he can expect a full refund of his initial deposit within twenty-four hours. Simultaneously, she glances up and down the busy street, hand raised in an attempt to signal a taxi cab. It’s her least favorite way to travel. The fare is five times what it should be, the seats probably haven’t been cleaned in God knows how long, and it takes almost the same amount of time to flag one down that it does to get wherever she needs to go. But it’s late and dark and Felicity knows better than to try to walk home by herself, even if she has been trained to escape an attacker. Avoiding a situation in which her training is necessary is preferred.

Cab after cab zips by her as fast as it can in the nighttime traffic, none of them stopping along the way to pick her up.

“Oh, come _on_!”

As if he’s heard her plea, a car finally pulls up to the curb a few feet away from Felicity and her frantic waving. Hurriedly, she makes her way toward the bright yellow cab, only to stop short when a heavily entwined couple blocks her path. The pair all but fall into the side of the taxi, and Felicity can’t do anything but stare dumbfoundedly as the two manage to get the door open and stumble into the backseat without breaking apart for air. She stares after the cab as it pulls away from the curb, unable to believe her luck.

“Need a ride?”

Felicity jerks around to face the source of the words, finding one Oliver Queen standing a few feet away from her. His sister, Thea, leans against him for support, laughing into his shoulder; presumably due to the taxi snatching that just occurred. Or whatever drugs she’s on. It’s kind of hard to tell, could be both.

“No, that’s okay. You’ve got a lot on your hands right now. I’ll just take a cab.”

“Ohhhhh! You jus’ got rejected, big brother.”

The younger Queen turns to her brother, leaning back slightly and poking him in the chest. Felicity is pretty sure the only thing keeping her on her feet is Oliver’s arm banded around her lower back. Ignoring Thea, he responds to Felicity.

“Are you sure? Cause my car is right here.”

It’s then that she notices a sleek black limo waiting at the curb next to the young Queens. It’s tempting, oh so very tempting, but her stubborn pride and keen determination not to get closer to Oliver than she already has are putting up a good fight.

“I’m sure. You go on and get your sister home.”

Just then, a cold drop of liquid hits Felicity’s cheek. Tilting her head up to the sky, she’s hit again with a few droplets of water as the distinct rumble of thunder disturbs the night. Rain begins to fall in a slow but consistent spatter. She shifts her gaze back to Oliver, who now has one eyebrow raised at her in challenge. With a soft sigh, Felicity relents.

“Fine. But only because you already ruined one of my dresses within the last week. Obviously you didn’t do it on purpose, seeing as you were a little preoccupied at the time. Not like with me or anything! Okay, well a little bit with me, but it was kind of hard to control and please feel free to stop me at any time now.”

Rolling her lips together, Felicity stares wide eyed at the two Queens. Oliver has the same small but genuine smile on his face that he did the first time she babbled in front of him, while Thea just gapes at her, slack jawed and equally wide eyed.

“Whoa. She talks fast. Can we keep her?”

Oliver shakes his head at his sister before pulling open the door to the short limo. 

“Just get in the car, Speedy.”

Felicity watches as he gently helps Thea step into the car, softly reminding her to watch her head. The tenderness with which Oliver treats her should seem out of place with his large frame and ability to imitate a marble statue, but it doesn’t.

Once Thea is situated in the car, Oliver straightens back up and returns his deep blue gaze to Felicity.

“You coming?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry, I’m coming.”

She quickly closes the distance between her and the car, sliding into the backseat after Oliver and shutting the door firmly behind her. The inside is all shiny black, just like the exterior, with soft lights lining the ceiling to give just the right amount of brightness. 

“Where to, Felicity?”

“Uhm, North Highbury Avenue, in the Glades.”

Oliver repeats the message to the driver, then sinks back into the leather seat. Thea is safely tucked into his side, her head resting on her brother’s shoulder as her eyes drift shut. Felicity observes as Oliver’s hold around Thea tightens, one calloused hand coming up to brush a few loose strands of hair away from her face. His eyes soften as he gazes at her, but Felicity can see the sadness in them even from her skewed viewpoint.

“She’s going to be okay. She’ll probably be in dire need of a Bloody Mary and a pretzel in the morning along with a couple Aspirins, but she’ll be fine.”

Oliver shifts to look over at Felicity, confusion clouding his stare before transitioning to neutral, aside from the furrowing of his eyebrows for a quick moment.

“Huh? Oh, I know. I… wasn’t the best kid growing up. Before I went away I got into some pretty bad shit that would make this look like having tea with the Queen of England.”

“I think that might be a little bit of an exaggeration.”

“Do you know the guy who owns the club we were at?”

Does she? Ha, she would have gotten to know him _very_ well tonight if fate hadn’t intervened. 

“Max Fuller.”

Oliver nods to her before gazing up at the roof of the car, as if he is unable to look at her while speaking his next words.

“Yeah, I, uh, slept with his fiancée... at the rehearsal dinner.”

“Oh, wow. That’s… wow.”

She’s not judging him, really she’s not. Lord knows that she has had clients whom she suspected were married or had significant others. And wasn’t she just about to meet with Fuller himself? It’s not something she enjoys, in fact it’s one of her least favorite things about the job. 

“It’s not something I’m proud of, but that’s the kind of stuff I used to do for kicks. I just wish I had realized the example I was setting for her back then. Maybe then she wouldn’t…”

Oliver trails off, and Felicity waits to see if he’ll pick his train of thought back up again. He doesn’t, instead choosing to study his sister’s face with his gaze.

It’s obvious that he cares for his sister deeply and that it’s killing him that he can’t do anything to change tonight’s events. If Felicity had to bet, she would say this isn’t the first time Oliver has found the younger Queen indulging in these kind of recreational activities. But he needs to know that he’s not to blame, needs to hear it out loud.

“Oliver, this isn’t your fault. Thea’s actions and choices are her own. She’s been through a lot at such a young age, losing both you and her father. That’s an incredibly painful thing to go through, which obviously you know since you went through it, too. What I’m saying is, that kind of stuff is hard to deal with and you can’t blame yourself for something that is so out of your control.”

“I just wish I could do something now, but she keeps asking all these questions that I can’t answer and all it does is upset her.”

He sounds lost, helpless, and the tone causes Felicity’s heart to clench tightly in her chest.

“Can’t answer or won’t?”

Sighing heavily, Oliver rests his head against the back of the seat and she wonders if he’s about to put an end to this conversation. They barely know each other, after all. Who is she to be offering him guidance on family matters and prying into his life? But then again, there’s a kind of comfort that surrounds Felicity when she’s with Oliver, blocking out the rest of the world. Sitting here in the back of the limo with him, she’s never felt safer. She wonders if he can feel it, too.

“Both. I’m just not ready to talk about it. Not now.”

The silently implied ‘not ever’ is not lost on her. 

“You have to let someone in sometime, Oliver.”

Her words hang in the air between them as silence falls over the backseat of the car. Neither Felicity nor Oliver speaks for the remainder of the ride, allowing the stillness of the night to encompass them.

Eventually the car rolls to a stop in front of a worn down, but not completely dilapidated, apartment complex. The rain, however, isn’t helping the building look any less dismal. Felicity looks to Oliver, breaking the quietness with a hushed whisper, so as not to wake Thea.

“Well, this is me. Thank you for the ride. Somehow we always seem to find a way of bumping into each other. Literally, in some cases.”

She tries to add levity to this moment, to this goodbye. It feels like that’s always what they’re doing, saying goodbye. But it’s for the best, she tells herself. The cross she bears isn’t meant to be shared with anyone else, especially not with someone who clearly has his own burdens to carry. 

“Maybe it’s fate.”

“Fate has a really sadistic sense of humor, then.”

And then he laughs. Not an exaggerated show, or even a full on guffaw, but a small exhale that carries with it just a hint of sadness. 

"Yeah, it really does."

Their eyes meet, gazes holding. Felicity has one hand on the door handle, ready to leave but not quite so willing to. The air between them is charged with the desire to stay. His eyes say so much more than what he’s willing to speak aloud, and her innate curiosity and determination leave her yearning to decipher everything hidden in those blue depths. 

Thea releases a stuttering snore and snuggles further into Oliver’s side, effectively breaking the tension filled moment.

“I should go. You need to get her home. Again, thank you for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

“It was no problem. I enjoyed the company.”

He gives her a small smile, one that Felicity returns before pushing the door open and sliding to the edge of the seat. She glances back over her shoulder at him, just shy of exiting the vehicle.

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

“Goodnight, Felicity.”

With that, she steps out of the limo and shuts the door behind her, watching as it drives away into the night.


End file.
